


Fancy You

by glitter_grasshopper



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, i love being trash, so basically buckle up for (hopefully) their entire romance, this started out as me wanting to write smut and realising i want a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_grasshopper/pseuds/glitter_grasshopper
Summary: Nathaniel Amell struggles to deal with unfamiliar feelings inspired by Zevran, and the two find themselves amidst romantic misunderstandings and a lot of awkwardness. And sexy times.





	1. Hints

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this is the first pic i post here, and the first fic i post in.... 4 or 5 years lol, just sth i wrote ages which im finally motivated to share, hoping that any attention it gets will give me a reason to continue it. im aware that its perhaps a bit too short, sadly i seem to automatically write like that, ill try my best to improve on that in future chapters. just for ref, my male amell is named Nathaniel because i didnt know about Nathaniel Howe, and he's a tall, blonde, muscular boi with a heart of gold, very chris evans-esque.

It had been a long two days of travelling from the Brecillian forest back to their camp, but the Warden and his companions had managed to return in one piece, with their goal achieved. They had proceeded to bathe in the nearby stream, much needed after arduous battles with werewolves and all kinds of monsters, and were now resting around the fire, narrating their latest adventure to those who hadn’t joined them.  
“And they vanished into thin air. Just like that. It was nowhere near the kind of magic I have seen during my training in the Circle”  
“That is not something to be taken aback by, Nathaniel” Wynne said. “The Dalish and their forests hide magic Circle mages cannot even dream of, including myself”  
“What about the werewolves?” Leliana asked, having been silent for the entirety of the story.  
“They transformed back into humans, some of them had been there for years. They all set out to return to their homes, or at least find out if they were still there. All in all, it was as successful as our visit to the Circle. We helped everyone there without having to resort to unnecessary violence, and we truly gave a solution to their problems” Nathaniel gave a small smile as he said this, clearly pleased with the result.  
“Um, Nathaniel?”  
The Warden turned to look at the source of the voice, seeing Alistair looking almost flustered.  
“Yes?”  
“I just wanted to tell you that I believe you handled it very well. You didn’t let Zathrian toy with you for his own interests, or allow the Werewolves to hurt any more elves… so, um… yeah, I think you did a very good job”  
Alistair seemed to struggle to say all this, ending by awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Nathaniel didn’t give this much thought, as his almost-Templar friend tended to always find difficulty in complimenting others.  
“Thank you, Alistair. I appreciate it” He replied, and smiled at him.  
Right then, a small sound like a suppressed giggle was heard, and they turned to see Zevran smirking mischievously at them.  
“Well you two are getting along awfully well”  
Alistair said nothing to this, merely blushing as much as humanly possible, while Nathaniel only glared at the Antivan.  
“Zevran, what are you--“  
“Don’t put much thought into it, my dear Warden, I doubt either of you wants to”  
This statement was followed by a brief silence, with a certain tension filling the air.  
“It’s been a very long day” Wynne spoke “And you all need a rest. Let’s all head to our tents”  
Nathaniel silently thanked her, pleased with Wynne’s motherly ability to always recognise those moments where she needed to somehow calm the mood. Slowly, everyone started to get up from their seats, heading to their tents, except for Morrigan, who had withdrawn to it immediately after their return, rarely showing any interest in conversing with her companions.

Nathaniel was left alone, attempting to tidy up the empty ale bottles and discarded weapons, not accustomed to messiness after a lifetime in the Circle, and put out the fire as he considered the possibility of bandits seeing smoke from it and attacking while they were all asleep.  
“You look adorable when you try to be angry”  
Nathaniel jumped, dropping a sword he had picked up and almost hitting his shin with it, and turned around to see Zevran lounging behind him nonchalantly, a smug look on his face.  
“For the love of the Mak—How long have you been sitting there?”  
Zevran took a moment to reply, evidently thinking of the best answer.  
“Long enough to see you don’t pay as much attention to your surroundings as you should, you mutter to yourself occasionally, and your backside looks lovely when bending over”  
The mage was taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise and feeling colour gather in his cheeks.  
“E-excuse me? I think I mis—“  
“I hope you won’t hold a grudge about my little comments on you and our Templar friend earlier. It was merely a bit of fun on my behalf, seeing how easy you Chantry boys are to embarrass, and… ensuring the coast is clear for me perhaps?”  
Zevran had silently moved closer to the Warden, a playful expression on his face.  
“Pardon? I’m afraid I d—“  
“No need to complicate things” Zevran retorted. Nathaniel held back a scoff, growing irritated at the Crow’s interruptions. “Sorry to make your evening uncomfortable, my dear Warden.  
I wish you a good night” With that, he walked away to his tent, hips swaying.  
Nathaniel stood still for a few moments, processing what had happened. He took a step forward, thinking about stopping Zevran to ask what he meant, but froze in his tracks.  
_“What am I going to say to him? Don’t be ridiculous, Nate, he’s an Antivan Crow, they don’t tend to make much sense. Just go lie down, tomorrow you won’t even remember this”_ He thought to himself, and headed to bed, still trying to understand what the rogue meant. As he removed his garments and got under his blankets, a thought crossed his mind. _“What if he—No, never”_ Nathaniel immediately dismissed the possibility, having never been approached by another person like that, nevertheless a man. _“I can’t know that for sure, though… I haven’t made any effort to get to know him better since he joined our party, and he is_ Antivan _…”_  
What confused the mage most of all was whether he really believed it wasn’t possible for Zevran to be thinking that, or he just didn’t want to want it. His thoughts swirled in his mind for some time until he managed to fall asleep, only to be haunted by more of the dreams caused by the Taint. It was the first time in a long time he ended up forgetting to tidy up the camp.


	2. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this is where it starts to get explicit.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Nathaniel noticed changes in Zevran’s behaviour towards him, or at least began to actually pay attention to it. It started with little things he tried to ignore, but it reached a point where he had to admit to himself that the Antivan was certainly interested in him in some way.

At first, he would catch Zevran looking at him at random occasions, while trekking through forests, when resting, even in the midst of battle. The rogue didn’t bother being discreet, or pretending to be looking somewhere else when Nathaniel turned to face him, but rather retained his usual smug expression and playful smirk. His gaze would sometimes be set on the Warden’s face, studying his features, on his hands as he swirled his staff, or others, the times when Nathaniel would feel the most uneasy, he would feel Zevran’s eyes scanning his body. He would usually look away when he realised it, only so his blushing wouldn’t be obvious. If he tried to look his companion in the eyes, in the hopes of seeming determined to not be first to avert his gaze, Zevran would wink or blow him a kiss, which only made him all the more flustered.

It slowly evolved into not only playful looks or winks, but snide comments as well. No matter what it was Nathaniel said, Zevran would find a way to make it sound vulgar, much to the mage’s surprise, as he had no idea there were people with minds that dirty. On one occasion, Nathaniel happened to complain about the freezing cold during their travelling across the foot of the Frostback Mountains, saying he would trade it for sizzling heat in a heartbeat, only for Zevran to whisper ‘I can assure you there are ways for you to sweat right here’. Nathaniel almost gasped at the comment, but managed to remain calm and simply scoffed, giving the rogue a strict look. Of course, the suggestive smile wasn’t wiped from his face, actually looking encouraged.

A few days after that, while the Warden and his entire party where staying in an inn close to Orzammar’s merchant route, they all dined together, even Morrigan joining them, a rare occasion at least. Spirits were high, as their visits to Redcliffe, the Circle, the Brecillian Forest, and now Orzammar had been met with success, and they could finally head to Denerim. They had spent hours drinking, laughing, and recounting the most memorable moments of their quest, the first time in it Nathaniel could remember all of them being so contented. He found it impossible to wipe the smile off of his face as he thought how much he enjoyed the company of these warriors, never having felt like part of a family more. Even their latest addition, Oghren, was starting to warm up to them, the strong Ale undoubtedly helping.  
“So I tell him “And you, my friend, are a nug-humper!” Oghren retorted loudly as the table roared with laughter, drinks spilling on the acre table. Alistair, the weakest drinker, had passed out on it half an hour ago, and Leliana was leaning against Morrigan’s shoulder as she played with a raven black curl in the mage’s hair. Sten was once again indulging in a one-way conversation with the Mabari, and Oghren had now turned his attention to Wynne, apparently trying to charm her with a story about venereal disease he got after a visit to a ‘friend’ in Dust Town, the latter struggling to humour him despite her appetite having efficiently disappeared for the next two to three days.  
Nathaniel was quietly observing his companions-no, his friends, pleased as he realised how close they were to the end of all this, when a thought hit him. _“Where in the Maker is—“_  
“Buenos dias, mi amor”  
Zevran had moved to his side without making a sound, now leaning his body on Nathaniel’s, a hand on his arm. The Warden resisted the urge to irritably say “Ah, fuck me” as he knew exactly how it would get twisted by Zevran.  
“Zevran, may I somehow be of assistance?” He said, colour gathering in his cheeks. The Antivan leaned in, full lips close to Nathaniel’s ear.  
“I can think of a few ways” He whispered.  
Nathaniel shuddered, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raised, his heart rate growing faster. He felt nervous, but it most definitely wasn’t negative. Suddenly he realised that he had an extremely attractive elf’s body pressed against his. This was out of his depth; he had no idea what to do, or how to respond. He didn’t want to admit to himself that this was happening to him all over again, so he got up from his chair in a swift movement, heading for his room. His friends were all too distracted to notice, especially Morrigan and Leliana, who now seemed to quite literally have their hands full with each other. After walking up the stairs, he turned to see if the rogue had followed him, only to face nothing but emptiness, letting out a sigh of relief as he turned to go to his room, thankful he could sleep in peace and forget about the evening. Of course, Zevran was leaning on the wall a few feet from him, with his usual cocky expression, causing Nathaniel to let out a small yelp, which only made him laugh.  
“Oh, that is simply precious; I need to scare you more often”  
Nathaniel rested his hand on the wall to his left to support his weight, a hand on his chest and panting.  
“For the love of—Zevran, can’t you show some mercy to a man?”  
Zevran said nothing, his smile widening, stepping closer to Nathaniel and touching his broad chest over his linen shirt. He looked up at him through his thick eyelashes, an almost too-innocent expression on his face.  
“I’ve actually been known to be quite merciless to men”  
Nathaniel could feel his member hardening, his trousers tightening alarmingly. He couldn’t keep denying he wanted this, but the prospect of going any further terrified him in a childish way.  
“Zevran, why did you follow me?”  
“Ah, you left in such a hurry I was worried. Look, you still have a bit of ale right there’ Zevran said, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, tapping it on Nathaniel’s bottom lip. He tensed up at the touch, taking half a step back and grabbing the handkerchief from Zevran’s hand, as he gave him a stern look.  
“Don’t be so tense, Nathaniel… I promise I can make you feel very good…” Zevran spoke in a husky voice, leaning in, planting a kiss on the Warden’s neck, as Nathaniel felt precome wetting his undergarments. This wasn’t something he could handle, and he acted out of impulse as he pushed Zevran away from him.  
“Zevran, I don’t know what you’re—what you think you’re doing but I don’t wish to take part in it, whatever sick little fantasy you have in your head, so leave me alone!”  
“Your little friend certainly disagrees” Zevran said coldly, as Nathaniel looked down at his crotch, only to see that his hardened dick was glaringly obvious through his trousers.  
“Just—just don’t. Stop” Nathaniel replied sternly, putting up a hand to emphasise his last word, storming off to his room and shutting the door behind him. He fell onto his bed, his face in his hands as he lay on his back.  
“What is the matter with me…? And him! Why is he so Maker-damned persistent?” He muttered to himself. Deep inside, he could tell what this was about. Having grown up around Chantry mothers, he had learned to naturally dismiss carnal desires as unholy, embarrassing; sex wasn’t something you should crave, it was just the Maker’s way for children to be created. And especially with another man; nothing specific had ever been said about same sex relations by a Chantry mother, it wasn’t openly frowned upon, but when families could only be made by a man and a woman, Nathaniel naturally assumed that two men being involved wouldn’t exactly be looked at in high regards. He was living his days in the Circle all over again, when he would try to ignore how appealing other boys seemed to him, or the more mature mages, at times even the Templars. He couldn’t help but be attracted to boys’ slender but taut bodies, or older men’s sharp jawlines, their strong arms, broad shoulders, their deep voices or facial hair. There was no denying he felt some attraction to women as well, always noticing things like Leliana’s slender ankles and beautiful laugh, or Morrigan’s puckered lips and voluptuous figure, or even agreeing with Zevran on Wynne’s magical bosom. But the feeling he got from men was completely different, and just when he had convinced himself he could ignore Alistair or Sten’s incredible bodies that came with their warrior training, Zevran came and tempted him with those comments and suggestive touches. All those whispers about clearly vulgar things excited him beyond belief; he had finally managed to put his past experience with fellow apprentices in the Circle behind him, labeling it as horseplay between pubescent boys, the small looks they’d exchange in the common bath, the kisses and grinding against each other’s bodies under their bed sheets at night when everyone else was asleep.  
He felt liquid gathering in his trousers, only to look down and see a huge stain. His member was now truly painfully hard, his reflection on all the men in his life worsening the situation; for a long time he had managed to avoid masturbation, or at least doing it while thinking about other men, but it was impossible to resist. The past few days had been unbearable thanks to Zevran’s taunting.  
Slowly, he slid his hand down his torso, slipping it into his trousers and wrapping it around his cock. Just the touch made it throb, Nathaniel letting out a whimper as he was desperate for release. He slowly started moving his hand across his length, the pleasure growing with each movement, soft moans escaping his lips. Gradually, he kept his palm firmly in place around his cock, thrusting his hips into it, harder and harder. Images of caramel skin flashed before his eyes, a mane of blonde, flowing hair, a set of perfect white teeth biting down on his neck.  
_“I’m… I’m touching myself to the thought of another man; one I barely know”_ Nathaniel whispered to himself, saying it out loud arousing him as much as the thought of it, precome leaking from the tip of his member. He was nearing his climax, now fucking his hand furiously, moaning brokenly as he was finally about to come. He needed just one thing to put him over the edge, something to truly make him lose control. It was then that he realised Zevran’s handkerchief was still in his hand. He hesitantly brought it up to his face, inhaling its odor. He opened his eyes wide as he realised it was the right decision; The Antivan’s usual perfume was all over it, along with a hint of his sweat. It turned Nathaniel on much more than he was willing to admit. Within seconds, he threw his head back on his pillow, barely managing to lift his shirt up as he came all over his hand and stomach, a few ropes even reaching his muscular chest. And just like that, the ecstasy was gone. He was left covered in his own seed, feeling guilt and regret. He looked at the handkerchief in his hand, disgusted at himself. He threw it on the nightstand next to him, and stood up, looking at himself in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall.  
“Never again. This can’t happen again. You have to avoid him” He spoke. He promised himself he would do anything he could to stop thinking of his roguish companion in that way, no matter how hard it would be. Even if he knew it was a promise he was very likely to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told yall it was gonna be explicit. i feel a bit iffy posting something this dirty now that i've reread it, but hey, yolo, amirite? anyway, hopefully this will get a few more kudos to encourage me to continue with a third chapter <3


	3. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy, this took me longer than i'd have liked to. It took just barely over a month to post, and i had promised myself i would never take longer than a month to update, so i'll try to be a bit more punctual, sorry!

The next few days went by somewhat uneventfully, the entire party travelling across the Coastlands and searching for a location to camp halfway from Redcliffe to Denerim, so the Warden and a few chosen companions could continue on to go find Brother Genitivi in the city, hoping he would know the whereabouts of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. During this time, Nathaniel made a point of avoiding Zevran, ignoring his passes at him as well as he could, and always made sure he wasn’t left alone with him. At first, Zevran didn’t seem to be discouraged in the slightest, flirting with the Warden as shamelessly as ever, but Nathaniel’s behaviour reached a point where it couldn’t be ignored. It was only so many cold looks and scoffs from him that Zevran could pretend he didn’t care about until he had to give in and accept that maybe for the first time in his life, he had found someone who was immune to his charms. It was a shock for him, but he had to respect it.  
There was a very specific event of course that made Zevran’s behaviour shift. It was just one comment he made, same as all the others, after fighting off a pack of blight wolves in the edge of a forest. He had turned to Nathaniel and said with a sly smile:  
“My dear Warden, I do not think there is a sight more enticing than your intensity in battle… I can only imagine what you must be like in b—“  
“Yes, Zevran, you can only imagine!” Nathaniel interrupted him after turning abruptly to look at him. The Crow’s smile had slipped off his face, observing with a completely blank expression.  
“You can only imagine because I am never, ever, EVER, joining you in your bed, or your tent, or behind a tree or wherever else you find fit to have sex, with whoever, male or female, and whenever! I do not care about you, your constant innuendos, your arrogance, any itch you brought from Antiva, or your, frankly, completely mediocre skills as a rogue! So you can stop all of… all of that, and leave me alone! Are we clear?  
The Antivan remained completely expressionless, continuing to look into the Warden’s eyes. For a few seconds, Nathaniel didn’t avert his gaze, or lose his aggressive expression while panting after his short rant. As his body cooled down, he realised just how insulting his manner had just been, guilt painting his pale face. Had he wanted Zevran’s advances to cease? Yes, but it just now hit him how part of him absolutely didn’t want to push him away, at least not entirely. In a few seconds, countless thoughts were racing through Nathaniel’s mind, and all he was managing was to confuse himself further. He tried to speak without having any plans as to what he wanted to say:  
“Zevran, --“  
“No need to say anything more, Warden” Zevran interrupted him mid-breath. “I understand. I’ll stop any comments of an erotic nature, and simply accompany you to your next camping location, where we will part ways. I see no reason to further burden you with my skills, or rather, lack thereof.” With every word, Nathaniel felt like he was losing a few centimetres off of his impressive height. “Deal?” If looks could kill, the way the Antivan was glaring at him would have killed him at least a dozen times before he even hit the wet ground.  
“I--“  
“Alright, let’s move on” And with that, Zevran had abruptly turned his back on Amell, and strutted confidently towards the rest of the party, all of whom had discreetly not moved too far ahead, but without making it obvious they were eavesdropping. Nathaniel was left absolutely flabbergasted by Zevran’s newfound demeanor. All he could do was silently gather his thoughts and start pacing quickly so as to catch up with the rest of his companions.  
For the rest of their trek, Nathaniel felt like he had successfully made a complete arse of himself, and was hoping his companions would be kind enough as to not point it out. He knew Oghren’s drunken honesty too well to actually believe they wouldn’t. He absolutely regretted his outbreak towards Zevran, fully aware of the fact he had to right his wrongs. By the time the party came across a suitable spot to camp, the sun had gone down, the first few dimly-lit stars in the night sky were showing, and he had rehearsed at least a dozen different apologies in his head. Now, what he had to do was actually gather the courage to go and set his remaining pride at the rogue’s feet, a moment he did not in any way look forward to.  
“Zevran, I apologise for my previous outburst, you did not deserve it and it was dreadfully rude on my behalf. I hope we can move on and you can forgive me” Nathaniel confidently said to the log in front of him. He had hastily pitched his tent and left the others to finish setting up camp while he frantically practised all the different versions of his apology.  
“Zevran, I’m sorry for—no, too personal. Zevran, listen—listen? Nate, are you trying to apologise or fight him? Good Maker…” The mage took a moment to breathe out and gather his thoughts. “You can do this. Zevran, I… I… I am stepping in the biggest puddle of mud right now” he said to himself, as he realised he was getting the hemline of his robes completely covered in mud and dirt.  
“Merde. Easily the worst apology I have ever heard”  
Nathaniel jumped, and turned to see Leliana struggling to stifle her giggling as she leaned against an oak tree.  
“LELI—“He covered his mouth upon realizing how loud his protest was. “Leliana, for the Maker’s sake, is the whole ‘sneaking up on the Warden’ practice a rogue thing or a foreigner thing?”  
The woman was now audibly laughing, and came closer to the Warden, placing her hand on his shoulder.  
“Ma chérie, relax, you’ll give yourself a heart attack at this rate!” Nathaniel was not taken aback by the pet name, as he and the archer had immediately warmed to each other after their first encounter in Lothering. Their shared faith in Andrastianism and optimistic outlook on life made the pair feel more at ease with each other than any other member of their group. Nathaniel had occasionally thought the woman to be particularly beautiful, her delicate features and manners a rare sight in Ferelden, a feeling he was shocked to discover was originally mutual in her. The two’s relationship evolved into a close friendship, though, after a rather awkward encounter during which Nathaniel had to explain to Leliana that he simply didn’t feel ready to deal with any sort of romantic involvement when the latter confessed her attraction to him. Both moved on from the incident rather quickly, and Leliana quickly found herself drawn to Morrigan, with whom she now seemed to be involved, a fact Nathaniel had to admit he was pleased with. Both of them seemed to need someone to care about them, in different ways.  
“Leli, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of s—“  
“Of rehearsing how to apologise to Zevran for being a buffoon, and hoping he will feel sorry for your pride just enough to change his mind about leaving?”  
Nathaniel blinked in surprise, and attempted not to blush. He didn’t do a very good job.  
“I.. um.. I didn’t exactly.. Uh… It’s not like th—I mean…. How is it even any of your—“  
“Natey, please. Spare us both the additional embarrassment.” Nathaniel would have tried to appear insulted under any other circumstances, but the rogue’s over-the-top, serious expression only made the two friends burst out in laughter. They laughed in a way only two people who are truly on the same wavelength can, as if they are sharing some joke unheard by the rest of the world.  
“But no, really.” Leliana said with a hint of a smile still on her lips. “Listen to me. We, or at least I, heard most of what happened between you earlier. And I heard you preparing your speech. It’s a good thing you’re at least preparing one, because you’re definitely in the wrong here” She made a conscious effort to say this without seeming as if she was scolding the mage, but rather only giving him a nudge in the right direction. She was well aware that Nathaniel was naturally a good listener, and tended to follow advice.  
“I understand how Zevran’s…. advances..” she said this with a small frown, “may seem a bit, well, intense to you, but you have to understand that’s just his character, he doesn’t mean any disrespect by it. He’s a decent enough man for an Antivan Crow, and he doesn’t aim to make you uncomfortable”  
“How do you know that?” The mage said, genuinely curious, and with a bit of an attitude.  
“Because I took the time to actually talk to him instead of yelling at him in the middle of a trek?” Leliana’s answer made Nathaniel go back to his usual shy self, realising she had a point. “We’ve spoken once or twice, and behind all of the innuendos and constant flirting, he’s truly rather pleasant to be around. He’s simply accustomed to being around others like him. I don’t think he’s ever met someone who’s had as sheltered an upbringing as you, he said himself that you, and Wynne, are the first Magi he has ever gotten to know. It’s only natural he doesn’t quite know how to be a bit less intense, you could say”.  
Amell had to agree with her, even if he didn’t quite want to show it, his pride loudly complaining inside him.  
“I completely understand how you aren’t comfortable with the sort of… language he uses, but I’m sure if you talk you can find a nice middle ground to keep things moving”  
Nathaniel was confused as to whether he heard her correctly. “Keep things moving?” Leliana seemed a bit surprised.  
“Well, yes, don’t you want to…?”  
It took a few seconds for him to realise what his companion meant, until he blushed profusely as the realisation hit him. “Leli, it’s not like that! I have no interest in—in Zevran, and definitely no desire to uh…”  
Leliana discreetly rolled her eyes as he continued to ramble, and softly put up a hand to stop him”  
“Alright, Nate, alright. Regardless of that, he is useful to our party, and with a quest like ours, Andraste knows we need all the help we can get, no? Go apologise to him like a good boy and I’ll finish my story about Ser Aveline after dinner” Leliana said with a teasing smirk, and softly patted his cheek.  
Nathaniel gulped, stuck out his chest, and confidently started walking towards camp. He turned on his feet after a few metres, though, and returned to where the archer was standing.  
“Where is he again?”  
“He’s already packed up and said goodbye to most of the group at least twice. The show must be finishing right about now, he’s probably heading off with his pack. Slowly. I’m sure he’s hoping someone will stop him”  
“Right.” Nathaniel headed off, only to quickly stop in his tracks, and turn to look at Leliana like a Mabari that had just gotten told off.  
“Go.” She said to him, mustering her best impression of Wynne when she had had enough of Alistair’s antics, or Oghren’s tales.  
The blonde finally gathered his courage, and swiftly paced through the now-ready camp and towards the path they had arrived from. Sure enough, a few steps into the forest path was Zevran, carrying a perfectly tied backpack, and walking far too slowly to actually be trying to get anywhere.  
“Zevran!” The roque ignored Nathaniel, and continued walking. “Zevran! Zevran~!”  
He finally turned to face him, with a cold look on his face, one eyebrow slightly raised.  
“Oh, Warden, did you say something?”  
_“Is he really…? He can’t possibly_ not _have heard me, he just wants to make my life even more difficult. Fine. Two can play that game”_ Nathaniel thought to himself.  
“Zevran, where are you off to?”  
The Antivan didn’t seem at all phased by Nathaniel’s pretending to believe he was leaving, being very well-versed in the art of deceit and lies. He silently decided to see who can act the fool the longest.  
“Oh, Maker only knows. Back home to Antiva? Maybe Orlais? Or somewhere exotic, like Nevarra, would be nice too”  
“Zevran, I meant something more along the lines of why on Earth are you leaving? You said yourself you’re at your safest around us, the Crows are most likely on the hunt for you”  
The rogue dramatically turned to the side, closing his eyes. “I would rather fight every single Crow to the death that spend another minute around those who do not appreciate my talents” He punctuated the last few words by bringing his wrist to his forehead.  
“Oh he is really trying to test my patience this time. I suppose I deserve it on some level” Nathaniel thought.  
“And what will you do? Wherever you go, that is?”  
Zevran looked at the Warden without turning his head, looking as disconnected from him as possible, like the star of some ridiculous romance novel. _“Oh, he’s done this before”_ Nathaniel thought.  
“I’ve no idea. I do believe I will simply let the wind be my guide, he shall tell me where on Thedas I truly belong, if such a place even exists”  
Nathaniel was struggling not to let his temper get the best of him, pretending to console the impossible man before him.  
“This is about what I said earlier today, isn’t it?”  
“Hm? And what was that?” A hint of cruelty mixed with delight was now visible in Zevran’s bright eyes. Nathaniel took a deep breath, knowing there’s no way this would be settled if he didn’t go about it by the rogue’s rules.  
“When I... insulted you.” He said, looking down at his feet  
Nathaniel was simply met with silence, and looked up to see Zevran gazing at him clearly waiting for something more.  
“And… when I yelled at you. And called you promiscuous. And insinuated you’re carrying a venereal disease.” The elf continued to look at him expectedly. “And uh, said you were a mediocre rogue.”  
Zevran was now smiling, clearly pleased with the apology, but his expression shifted to yet another dramatic frown.  
“Well, my dear Warden, apologies are good and well, but I don’t see what I can do for you at this point. Are you sure I wouldn’t be burdening you with my, frankly, completely mediocre skills?” He said and turned his back to Nathaniel. The mage was quick enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes, seeing them sparkling, knowing how much the assassin was enjoying this.  
“I was wrong. You’re actually not mediocre at all, and you’re very proficient at, well, killing. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry when I hadn’t made my position against you clear, and you didn’t deserve that sort of treatment. I really hope we can put it behind us and you can rejoin us, because your presence and help in our journey are invaluable.” Nathaniel said all this almost too formally, with barely one breath, before he lost the momentum his nerves had built up. Now it was his turn to look back at Zevran expectedly, hoping they could end this overly dramatic charade.  
The elf finally turned around to face the human, and had lost his theatrical demeanor.  
“Well, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”  
Nathaniel very much wanted to disagree, but knew perfectly well he was at a disadvantageous position, and thus preferred to keep his mouth shut and look away.  
“Well, regardless, I appreciate you actually admitting you were wrong, dear Warden. I have to say, I’d hate to leave you before completing our journey. My loyalty remains pledged to you.”  
Nathaniel let out a tiny sigh of relief at this, enjoying the rare moment of Zevran being honest-not just vulgar and forward, but actually sincere-and gave him a small smile.  
“Thank you, Zevran. Once again, I apologise.”  
Zevran smiled back, a much more discreet and controlled smile than his usual smirk or grin, and narrowed his eyes just a tad, as if he was studying the Warden to reach some conclusion. As he parted his lips to utter something, Nathaniel found himself extremely curious to hear what he had to say.  
“I’ll see you at dinner” the assassin said, picking up the backpack he had set at his feet, and began to strut towards the campsite.  
Nathaniel took a moment to look at him walking, reminding himself to look far above his waist. He turned his gaze to the sky, a starry sky somewhat obscured by the rich foliage, and quietly thanked the Maker that this unpleasantry was behind them. Before he could take a moment to himself and finally relax, though, he heard the familiar voice of the Antivan bringing him out of his thoughts.  
“You look simply precious when your pride is hurt. Let’s do it again sometime!”  
The mage turned to look at his companion, who was only a few steps ahead and impishly smiling at him, before turning to walk back to camp.  
“Good Maker, I’m going to regret this” Nathaniel thought, cursing his well-meaning nature, as well as Leliana’s eagerness to patch things up, and started walking back to camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really pleased at how this chapter turned out much longer than the previous ones, i think the story is becoming a bit more fleshed out which helps. plus, i genuinely enjoyed writing all the dialogue and seeing the first bits of Nate and Leliana's friendship. As always, kudos and, even more so, comments, are greatly appreciated!


	4. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so, remember how i promised one chapter each month? yeah, i didnt believe it either. here i am, 3.5 months later, embarrassed but not surprised! this chapter is considerably longer than previous ones, so hopefully that makes up for me being a trashcan. enjoy!

 For the first few days after Nathaniel and Zevran’s argument was settled, the latter seemed to somewhat reduce his efforts to woo the former, for which the Warden was more than grateful. After his conversation with Leliana -or rather, being chastised at her hands - he couldn’t help but think she had something to do with the assassin’s cooler demeanour. Seeing how as his friend had made it her duty to assist him in the situation, he had every reason to assume she would do the same for Zevran after she had said herself that he was pleasant company for her.

 Of course, he couldn’t be sure of anything except for the fact that he was definitely not going to complain about not having Zevran’s constant whirlwind of innuendos in his ears. He would much rather have a clear head to take in his first visit to Denerim, the bustling city absolutely mesmerizing him from the moment he entered it. Nathaniel couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced a lively environment like that, his few memories outside of the Circle during his early childhood being too vague and foggy. He was grateful to have had decided against leaving half the party behind at the last minute, knowing he felt much safer with all of his companions following him. Despite the pressing urgency of finding Brother Genitivi, he couldn’t help but be distracted by everything happening around him. Merchants trying to sell their crafts and goods to any passer-by, hasty chambermaids running from errand to errand with bags and baskets held in any way possible, entire patrols of the City Guard marching through the streets, beggar children pestering anyone walking past them, shady figures in cloaks making business propositions, or offering to part with “magical” artefacts for the right price, and the list went on. The only familiar presence the Warden could see was a bickering pair of Chantry sisters outside of the capital’s Chantry, a curious couple which Alistair and he couldn’t help but be amused by.

 It wasn’t all fascination with the city’s environment, though. Nathaniel was suddenly more aware of his naiveté than ever, all too eager to walk down empty alleyways, or donate to hooded individuals claiming to support suspicious causes. Were it not for his companions’ timely interventions, he would likely have been mugged more than once. Sadly, he was -aware that his surprisingly large physique –for a mage- wasn’t enough to convince the dwellers of Denerim that he wasn’t worth the effort. Leliana would giggle, tapping a finger softly against his thin nose and teasing him for his childish ignorance on the dangers of the city. Having shared her colourful past with him, Nathaniel was anything but surprised at the ease with which she traversed Denerim and avoided potential threats. Of course, the same could be said for Zevran, who managed to simultaneously blend in entirely while also making heads turn in every district, and had to be reminded by Wynne more than once that the Warden’s “aide” shouldn’t be attempting to pickpocket Chanters.

 After a few hours in the city, having found an inn to spend the night and still exploring, Amell was in the odd position of scolding himself quietly, as he realised how eager he was to indulge in activities of doubtful legality. Of course, to Morrigan’s great disappointment, he never followed through with his compulsive ideas, preferring to “rescue crippled Chantry hags from robbers”. He wondered what made him consider the possibility of agreeing to hide bodies or deliver “packages”, deviancy never being an active character trait of his. At first, he thought it was perhaps his desire to not seem like even more of a sheltered child in the eyes of Leliana, their almost sibling-like friendship often having him wanting her to view him as being on her level of calm assuredness (not to mention the ease with which _she_ indulged in activities of doubtful legality), but he quickly rejected the idea, as the bard was more than appreciative and understanding of his innocence.

 The conclusion he ended up reaching was that it wasn’t Leliana he wanted to impress, but his other roguish friend. Zevran would tease him for his uprightness in a much similar fashion to Leliana, but his comments always seemed to scathe Nathaniel just a bit more. He didn’t care to admit it even to himself, but he knew he was looking for an opportunity to seem calculating and “rogue-like” to the Antivan. Naturally, he failed miserably at it, actually agreeing to deliver a surprisingly warm package to an empty barrel in the backstreets of the marketplace, only to stop halfway to the drop-off location, and spend 10 consecutive minutes saying “Oh, Maker, Maker, Maker” whilst contemplating returning it. Zevran found it “precious”, Nathaniel mentally tying the word around his neck and letting it drag him down the Amaranthine Ocean.

  _“Andraste’s undergarments, why am I so desperate for his approval? Maker knows he’s not the most trustworthy judge of character, or ethics"_ He thought, discreetly sneaking peeks at Zevran.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?”

 Nathaniel jumped in his seat, holding back a small yelp. It was early evening, the sun having nearly set outside, and the Warden along with his party were all resting in the Gnawed Noble, needing a drink and a meal before resigning to the rooms they had rented for the next few nights. Edwina, the proprietor, had been more than happy to provide them with accommodation after seeing the shining Sovereigns they set in front of her, and being rid of the Crimson Oars that were causing a ruckus thanks to their efforts. Leliana, Morrigan, Wynne, and Shale would be sharing a room, the latter finding it “pigeon crap” that she counted as one of the women of the group, bitterly adding she hoped there would be no “braiding of each other’s hair”. The men of the group would be split into two groups, with Oghren, Sten and the Warden’s Mabari –who found himself inseparable from the Qunari warrior- sharing one room, and Alistair, Zevran and Nathaniel sleeping in an adjacent room.

“And thus, the Warden dropped dead of surprise.” The mage sarcastically said, turning to look at Leliana, the source of the voice that had so startled him. “Leli, what have I told you about the sneaking up thing?”

“I did no such thing this time, chérie. It’s not my fault you set off for the Fade while I was still talking to you. You could at least bother to gawk at him a touch more discreetly”.

Nathaniel blushed softly, pushing his fair eyebrows together. “I was not gawk—who are you talking about?” He changed his answer halfway through, pretending to be clueless, poorly.

“Nate, if I didn’t know you, I’d be convinced you’re trying to cast a spell on Zevran, staring as intently as you are. You two are on rather decent terms at the moment, why don’t you be a good Andrastian and go initiate a conversation for once?”

“I see no reason why I would want to do that”

“It’s just something humans do when they don’t hate people they’ve been traveling with for almost a year straight with. Maybe you could give it a shot?”

Nathaniel felt his blushing expand to his ears. He always hated when that happened, as his ears were just a little too prominent, and he didn’t find that more attention drawn to them was needed.

“F-fine, I’ll go play nice, but only because you asked me”. Nathaniel retorted, and got up from his seat, heading to where Zevran was drinking in silence. Morrigan raised her head slightly from where it was resting on Leliana’s shoulder. “The poor boy is redefining stupidity”

“Morrigan!” Leliana exclaimed with a smile. “Nathaniel isn’t stupid, he’s just showing how… inexperienced he is in these matters”.

“The same can’t be said for you, songstress” Morrigan replied with a smirk, causing the redhead to lean in and kiss her.

 Meanwhile, Nathaniel had just reached Zevran’s table, situated in a corner of the tavern, a cozy spot with a view of the harbour through a small, stain-glassed window. He paused in front of the rogue, taking a deep breath.

“Hello”

The Warden felt ridiculous, towering over the sitting figure, his naturally deep voice sounding comical to his own ears. _“Hello? Incredible work, Amell”_.

 Zevran looked up at him in a surprised manner, smiling as his eyes met Nathaniel’s. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone has said to me. Well, in Fereldan at least”. Nathaniel laughed, the rogue’s quick wit seeming more and more enjoyable to him as time went by.

“I thought you looked a bit lonely, not having someone to terrify with your stories” the mage said, pulling back the chair across from Zevran to take a seat.

“I’d say that's Oghren’s duty, my stories are much more likely to excite rather than terrify” Zevran replied, eyes sparkling.

“I’ve been quite terrified at how many different nobles you’ve seen naked” Nathaniel blurted out, immediately regretting it and blushing like a Chantry Mother whose ankles where showing. Zevran didn’t seem to be offended in the slightest, throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh Nathaniel hadn’t heard before, at least not inspired by him.

“The mighty Grey Warden trying to out-sass me? Oh, this is too good, I’m finally rubbing off on you”.

 _“I wish you were rubbing off on—“_ Nathaniel thought to himself, rushing to interrupt his train of thought. “ _Maker, what’s gotten into me?”_ He felt like he shouldn’t be sitting with the Antivan, knowing all too well how likely he was to think worse things than that soon enough. And yet, hearing Zevran laugh as genuinely as he did made him want to sit much longer, enjoying seeing another side to him than the constant innuendos and raised eyebrows.

“What can I say, we Chantry-educated youth are so easily impressionable” he managed to say, smiling shyly, causing the man across from him to roll his eyes in amusement.

“Of course, duly noted. I would positively drown in guilt where I to corrupt you”

 Nathaniel nervously rubbed his fingers back and forth across his thigh under the table, eager to change the topic. “So, how happy are you not to be sharing a room with Oghren?” he said, giving an uneasy smile.

 Zevran knowingly raised an eyebrow, but didn’t seem to express whatever was on his mind. “I’m actually somewhat disappointed Sten won’t be staying with us, I can’t help but be convinced the man sleeps in a full suit of armour”

Nathaniel chuckled, relaxing his body and resting his back against the wooden chair. “Shame indeed. You can try asking, if you have a death wish”

“I’ve had one all my life, it seemed only wise working for the Crows”

The Warden lost his smile, a small knot forming in his stomach. “Zevran, I’m—“

“Oh, dear mage, don’t give me that puppy-dog face, please! I’m comfortable enough with who I am to kid about my past, surely you can understand”

 The truth was, Nathaniel couldn’t. He would sometimes joke with Alistair about Chantry matters, but they both knew there was a small amount of nostalgia in those conversations, missing the relative safety of their apprenticeship and Templar training, respectively. He had never given it a particular amount of thought, but he was partly aware of how willing he was to paint his Circle upbringing in a more positive light than most. He remembered how much more bitter so many of the other apprentices were at the entire concept of Circles, like Jowan, and how he somehow never related to that. It was simply how he had conditioned himself to see the world, always trying to view the positive side of everything that came his way. One of the few memories he had of his family was how his mother would always tell him “the world is shaped by how we see it”, a phrase that had followed him his whole life, urging him to be an optimist. He knew he wasn’t in denial, entirely ready to agree on the missteps of the Templars when needed, and yet still, he could never decide whether he was truly content living in the Circle, or had just forced himself to think so.

“On some level, I suppose so, yes. It seems much easier for you to do so than it does for me" he said, and made a brief pause. "I do admire that”

Zevran put his elbows on the table, leaning towards the Warden. “And now a compliment I didn’t have to blackmail out of you? My my, either Leliana is an extremely effective tutor, or you really were worried about me leaving”

Nathaniel could tell how flushed he would look in the upcoming seconds, and hoped the lighting on his face was as poor as it felt. “You are a… valuable asset to this team, Zevran”

 The assassin chuckled, leaning further forward, his chin resting on his intertwined fingers, looking into Nathaniel’s eyes. The Warden was suddenly extremely aware of how empty the tables around them seemed to be, and how Zevran must have known it’s not easy to see the table he had selected from most parts of the tavern when he first sat down.

“The way you say my name is precious, if slightly off”

Nathaniel blinked in surprise, not sure he had heard correctly. “Have I been mispronouncing your name? Oh, I’m sorry!”

“I wouldn’t quite say mispronouncing, but the Fereldan accent definitely gives it its own… charm”

Nathaniel bopped his head to the side and frowned softly. “Well, how do you pronounce it?”

“Zevrán”

“I feel like I’m saying the s—Zévran”

“Nonono, you don’t accentuate it properly. The emphasis is on the second syllable, and you make the “a” sound… rounder than needed”

“Z-evraan?”

Zevran was now grinning, as if he was having a marvellous time.

“Not quite. Zevrán”

“Zévran”

Each attempt brought Zevran’s face just a bit closer to Nathaniel’s, looking at him attentively.

“Zevrán”

“Zévran”

The rogue slowly touched Nathaniel’s bottom lip with his finger, and whispered. “Zevrán”

Nathaniel abruptly got up, bumping his head on a low-hanging plank holding the ceiling together. “You know what, I think it’s just the language barrier! I’ll work on it, let you know, yes?” And with that, he left the table, not quite sure what he could do that would possibly clear his mind.

 “This can’t end well” Nathaniel muttered to himself, lying on the weathered bed of his room. He wasn’t’ going to complain about the mattress that was ready to give out, he much preferred it to sleeping on the ground, one of the few things about his Grey Warden freedom that he didn’t find too pleasing. _“I shouldn’t be like this around_ him _”_ he thought, one hand supporting his head, one resting on his stomach. _“I… maybe I don’t find him entirely unattractive, but… aren’t I supposed to? But why should I feel bad? Morrigan and Leliana seem more than happy with each other”_ This wasn’t the first time he was having this internal conflict. It’s something that had come up long before Zevran appeared in his life, before he even joined the ranks of the Wardens. It always was the same: He meets another man that charms him, he becomes aroused at the thought of him, he denies it to himself, and then he simply winds up wallowing in guilt after pleasuring himself to the idea of bedding said man.

 And, naturally, he was going down the exact same path at that moment. As his mind was on the effect Zevran had on him, it quickly drifted to his appearance. The blonde hair that always framed his face so perfectly, the full lips with the almost too-defined Cupid’s bow, and those eyes, those practically golden eyes that made Nathaniel feel like his innermost thoughts were being read. Alas, those were but the most innocent things in the Warden’s mind regarding Zevran, and he soon found himself in much more explicit territory. He was picturing his bare chest, smooth and tan, and his flat, taut stomach, both of which he had very purposely avoided to actually see when the assassin would nonchalantly strip in plain view. How he longed to run his hands across that flawless body, to feel every muscle, ever scar, ever single inch of it. To gently caress the dark skin with his lips, feeling its warmth against them, moving lower and lower, the elf’s thighs an exciting pressure on his head as he wrapped his lips around--   

“Was this common practice in the Circle?”

 Amell felt his heart jump into his throat, rushing to remove his hand from his rock-hard member inside his trousers, sitting up on the bed. Frozen with embarrassment, he looked at Zevran standing across from him with a blank expression, unable to reply.

“I mean, doing this sort of thing, knowing you might get caught”

 Nathaniel gulped, trying to salvage what he could of his dignity. “Doing—doing what? I was just… adjusting myself. And besides, aren’t you the one who was- Maker, were you just watching me? How long have you been standing there?”

 “Just for the last minute or so, which seems like a long time for adjustments. Although I have been in the room for an hour now. All that Rivaini wine the barkeep treated us to was a bit too strong for me, so I needed to lie down. And I did, until a certain someone disturbed the lovely silence I had established”

 Nathaniel moved his gaze just a few metres to the rogue’s left, realising he had been using the third bed in the room, which was obstructed from view by a thin wooden panel, apparently added hastily just for them.

“I-isn’t that supposed to be Alistair’s bed?”

 “Oh, our not-quite-a-Templar friend has been missing, presumed miserable, ever since that visit you two paid to his… sister, I gather? He didn’t tell me, but the man doesn’t know when to lower his voice. Thank the Maker he’s handsome” he added, causing Nathaniel to feel a small pang of what felt like envy, a thought which he quickly brushed off as absurd. “Besides, the stake he had claimed on it was dumping some worn garments of suspicious quality, so I simply moved them. Still, I wasn’t fast enough to stop the sheets from having his... _rustic_ scent, or rather, musk”

 The mage felt a throbbing in his trousers, praying he had actually managed to conceal his crotch when he had pulled up some sheets in a startled attempt for decency. _“Andraste, anyone else you want to mentally defile, Nate? I heard First Enchanter Irving is available!”_ He would have almost made himself laugh, were he not positively mortified.

“Of course, some may have found it exciting. It seems like anyone is willing to pleasure themselves out in the open these days.”

 “You still haven’t explained why you didn’t say anything when I came in” he managed to utter, in an attempt to silence the Antivan yet again trying to initiate something he wanted to be no part of.

 “We had agreed on sharing a room, no? I wasn’t aware I was meant to declare my presence every time we breathed the same air. Maker knows you’ve seemed more than pleased when you can pretend I’m not there”

 The Warden didn’t know what it was, but for the first time in their acquaintanceship, the Crow was making him feel aggravated not because of some ridiculous innuendo, but simply by how childish he was being.

“Why must you be so difficult? I’ve been nothing but nice to you since my apology!”

“Since Leliana practically had to drag you to me so you could shit out some rehearsed apology, you mean”

 Nathaniel let out a sarcastic laugh he had never heard before. A lot of possible answers were rushing through his head, and he knew he had to try very hard not to make Zevran actually leave the cause this time.

“Surely you jest, Arainai. Weren’t you the one with the “Widowed Queen of Nevarra” speech ready to go? You certainly seemed to be putting up a show”

He could have sworn he saw the tiniest hint of a flush in the rogue’s skin, but he obviously wasn’t ready to break his defence, choosing to change the subject.

“Is it a human, mage, or Chantry thing to walk out on people in the middle of a conversation? Regardless, that was unbelievably rude of you”

Nathaniel didn’t expect to be called rude of all things. “I didn’t realise I—“

“I’m sure you realised plenty more than you let on, based on how you fled the scene”

“Zevran, I would advise you to watch your tone”

“Or else?” Both their tones had been raised significantly, bringing Nathaniel out of his annoyance, who decided things shouldn’t escalate any further.

“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier”

“Then why did you storm off?”

“I… I can’t let myself discuss the things you want us to, or get… too close to you”

Zevran put his hands on the bed to support himself, moving closer to the Warden. “And why is that?”

Amell could feel a stir in his trousers, seeing the rogue’s feline movements in front of him. “The things you say and do, they-they make me want to…”

“Yes?”

“I mean, the, the propositions you make, they seem—“

“Tempting?”

“No, not tempting! They just, I mean I simply—or rather you—“

“Is it me or you?”

“It’s me, it’s me that--that wants to do the things you say sometimes”

“Do those things to me?”

“Y—no! I shouldn’t, and we shouldn’t even be having this conversation, or do those things—“

Zevran was now almost straddling Nathaniel, their faces so close together they could feel each other’s warm breath on their lips.

“Would that be so bad, Warden?”

 The door suddenly opened, revealing Alistair looking like a wet cat, and in one instant the magic of whatever could have come had disappeared. “Of course it starts to rain when I’m-" the warrior started to say, before noticing the position he had caught them in. Zevran seemed unfazed, and Nathaniel was staring, wide-eyed.

“Alistair! Welcome back. We were expecting you” Zevran said sardonically, causing Nathaniel to push him off of his body so roughly he almost fell off the bed.

“Alistair, I, um, was worried about—“

Alistair took a small step back, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’m obviously interrupting something, I should leave”

 “You didn’t interrupt anything at all, we were just going to sleep, and now you’re here so we can do just that” the Warden said, turning to look at Zevran, who was giving him a very irritated look.

 "Of course we were” the assassin said, getting up with a scoff. “I’ve claimed the more private bed, Alistair, but not to worry, your precious rags are over there” he said, pointing vaguely towards a musty chair that looked like it had been bombarded with dirty undergarments. “Goodnight, Alistair.” With that, he turned to leave, giving only one look over his shoulder to the mage. “Nathaniel” he added, and disappeared behind the wooden panel.

 The two Grey Wardens abstained from discussing anything about this encounter after Zevran lied down, preferring to respect each other’s obvious uncomfortable silence. As they undressed and got under their sheets, Nathaniel felt guilt stinging him, for how he had once again rejected Zevran only after allowing him to build up his hopes. _“But, if Alistair hadn’t shown up, what would—“_ he thought to himself, and shook his head. _“This has to end. You have to stop this”_ he told himself, for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months.

 And yet, he couldn’t. Hours went by, with Alistair occasionally snoring and Zevran sleeping more quietly than the dead, but Nathaniel found himself being unbelievably hard. _“I can’t do that right now with someone in the next bed, I’m not an animal”_

 _"And yet you had no problem doing it, and much more, back in the Circle”_ a malicious little voice in his head said. Nathaniel tuned it out, and looked under the covers at his bulge. His impressive size was standing tall through the white undergarments he slept in, desperate for some attention. He slipped his hand under them, and gave it a small, reluctant touch. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his hand firmly wrapped around it, moving it slowly up and down so as not to make any sound. His imagination rapidly went to Zevran’s form, something he knew he had to avoid at all costs. Just then, Alistair took a sudden breath in his sleep, causing the mage to freeze momentarily. As he turned to ensure the warrior was asleep, he was left shocked at the sight of him sleeping nude from the waist up. He must have removed his shirt at some point in the night due to the room’s stuffy atmosphere without Nathaniel noticing. The latter got an idea in that moment that came quite instinctively. He began to rub his member yet again, focusing on Alistair’s figure. _“There’s no harm in this, it’s okay, it’s just a fantasy, it’s nothing that’s ever going to happen. Anything to get your mind off of… him, before it leads you to do anything stupid.”_ He barely managed to convince himself it wasn’t a wrong thing to do.

 But he couldn’t help but be amazed by Alistair’s body. An incredibly broad set of shoulders, a chest that looked harder than any armour, and such strong arms, one of them raised above his head, resting on his pillow. The pace of Nathaniel’s masturbation slowly increased, as he began to think about Alistair climbing on top of him-

 A creak was heard, making him lay still. Was it just the old boards on the floor? Just as he lifted his head only slightly to investigate, he saw Zevran’s figure sneaking around the wooden panel, seemingly coming towards him. He couldn’t cover himself up underneath his sheets, or remove his hand from his member, knowing any movement would give him away, and rather hoped he was wrong and Zevran was heading for a sip of water. And yet, the rogue walked all the way to his bed, wearing only a pair of trousers that went just above his knees, and a very loose shirt with a wide cut that exposed his neck and collarbones. Nathaniel could feel his heart pounding, not knowing what his intentions were.

“Keeping busy, dear Warden?” he whispered.

Nathaniel couldn’t reply, barely able to look him in the eye.

“I wonder what—ah!” Zevran quietly exclaimed as he turned and saw Alistair’s half-naked body. “Seems like you have your material ready for you, doesn’t it?”

“Zev—“

Zevran put his index figure on the mage’s lips somewhat roughly, making a shushing sound.

“No need to make excuses around me. I can tell what you’re doing under those cheap Fereldan sheets”

Nathaniel felt like he had been caught doing Blood Magic by an Enchanter, having no idea how to react, or what to say.

 “I don’t blame you, it’s quite the sight, no? Lobbing that sword and shield around all day obviously comes with some perks” Zevran teased the mage, as he signalled towards Alistair with his head. “Is he what made you want to find release in the dark of night? Or is he simply a means to an end?”

“Zevran, I’m going to—“

 “Do what? Wake him up? To say “Alistair, I was just pleasuring myself while watching your naked body, and Zevran interrupted me?” I don’t think that’s going to be very well-received.” The assassin grinned as he whispered his last sentence.

 Nathaniel could feel himself sweating. He had a point. It was his own urges that had put him in a position he shouldn’t have been in in the first place, not that he didn’t recognise the assassin’s part in making it all the more difficult.

 “Of course, I’m not going to prohibit you from doing so. You’re free to do whatever you please, evidently” Zevran teased, as he sat to Nathaniel’s right, leaving his visual field towards Alistair completely free. The mage swallowed nervously, wondering what he had in mind. He was right, he wasn’t being forced, per se, nor was he at his freest.

 “I don’t blame you, Warden. My mind has wandered there too, more than once. I mean, just gaze upon that strong chest, and those thick arms, rough and manly… Imagine those holding you against his chest, his warmth and natural scent all too much to take in for your inexperienced body.” Nathaniel worriedly looked down, realising he was already leaking precum, his hand holding onto his length. Zevran took notice, understanding what the mage was thinking just by seeing his expression change as he looked under the covers. “I think I can guess what the problem down there is. Someone hasn’t had alone time in a few days, hm? Saving Thedas and all. That’s alright… why don’t you solve it now?”’

 Nathaniel had been expecting that exact proposition, and yet it still caught him off guard hearing it out loud. He couldn’t believe the situation he was in. He had his fingers wrapped around his cock, Zevran centimetres away from him, encouraging him to masturbate to a half-naked, sleeping Alistair. All he could do was look up at the rogue with big, innocent eyes, unaware of the effect it had on him.

 “Imagine those calloused hands running down your body… undressing you hurriedly, needing to touch your bare skin. He’s desperate for you, begging you to be your servant, to show you pleasure you can’t even comprehend”

 Nathaniel felt like he wasn’t controlling his own limbs, as his hand started steadily moving across his length, drops of precum leaking onto his stomach, concealed by the white covers.

 “His lips and teeth are marking your pale skin, leaving bites and bruises all over you, but you want that, you want to look down and remember what he did to you, don’t you?”

 Zevran took a short pause, during which Nathaniel realised he was expecting an answer. All he managed to utter was a breathy “y-yes” through the moaning he was trying to hold back. It was enough for the rogue to smile a devilish grin. “But that isn’t enough for him, he craves more, he’s desperate for it, and so are you. He goes from kissing your sensitive inner thighs to running his tongue along the underside of your length, making you throw your head back in pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like it”

 Nathaniel was now moving his hand much more quickly, his eyes fixed on Alistair, his thick neck, the hair on his exposed underarm, the defined V-line leading into his trousers. He knew that if he moved to look at Zevran, things would immediately leave the fantasy realm, and he was already walking on extremely thin ice, knowing he wouldn’t be able to justify what was happening the next day.

 “He takes his time getting your entire length in his mouth, allowing you take charge as you thrust into it for as long as you please. But before you’re ready to release, he pulls away, starting to wet your tight entrance with his tongue”

“Oh—oh Maker” Nathaniel brokenly moaned, his hand now moving fast enough for the precum dripping down his shaft to make an audible moist sound.

“He works his way into it, preparing it for something much bigger, much harder, and he’s pushing his tongue further in, until he deems you ready for him”

“Uh-uh huh” Amell's voice sounding higher was a tell-tale sign of his getting closer, so close he just needed one last push.

Zevran inched closer to Nathaniel’s ear, not touching him, but so close the mage was about to ask him to do so.

“And you know what happens then, Warden?”

“Wh-what?” He was ready to release the moment he would hear what Zevran was about to say.

“Someone walks in on the two of you, and you pretend nothing was happening in the first place. Because that’s the kind of scared boy you are”

Nathaniel had stopped in an instant, turning to look at Zevran in confusion. “Wh--?”

“Bad Chantry boys don’t get rewards, mage” the rogue whispered in a harsh tone, getting up and walking quietly towards his bed. “Hopefully you’ll improve on your manners soon”

 Amell was left feeling humiliated, exposed and… naked. He was still physically aching for release, but he felt too disgusted with himself to continue. All he did was turn to his other side so he didn’t have to look at poor Alistair, who had been the subject of something he didn’t deserve, and proceeded to have a very uneasy sleep for the few hours he had left. Something told him a much more honest apology on his behalf would be necessary soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im SO proud of myself for making the chapter title a double entendre. this was very Spicy(tm) to write, and it 100% just happened as I was writing, I really didn't plan for something this intense to happen between our boys in just the fourth chapter. this fic is going to be on semi-hiatus until the end of the summer starting mid-november, so without making any promises, ill do my darndest to give you one chapter before i disappear (long story), including the Iconic scene that came to me about 3 years ago and motivated me to write this fic in the first place. comments pwease ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and even more so comments are greatly appreciated <3


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